


Silver Dollar

by flight815kitsune



Series: silver verse [6]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27015004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flight815kitsune/pseuds/flight815kitsune
Summary: Bucky Barnes joins the silververse.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Avengers Team, James "Bucky" Barnes & Loki, Loki & Avengers Team
Series: silver verse [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/61552
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Silver Dollar

**Author's Note:**

> So. Past couple years have been... rough. I'm dusting off some of the wips in my docs in an attempt to get back in the swing of posting again, and seeing which ones I can do something with and which are to be abandoned. For that reason, this fic is more of a collection of scenes and snippets of dialogue than some of the other works I've shared. I might come back to some of them, eventually, but it's spent too long gathering dust and I figured fuck it- maybe someone will get something out of it.   
> also silver dollar was the working title and i don't have an alternative so yeah.

“Seriously? Am I running a rescue group?” 

The captain had returned from his run sopping wet and with an equally-drenched man beside him. The way that he held himself- leaning slightly towards the hooded newcomer, his hand outstretched but not touching- was a clear indication that this person was under his protection. Loki let the slight smile grace his lips as he stared at the small group from his position on the sofa. 

His attention was focused on the man in the sweatshirt. Not too tall, muscular but not with the broad shoulders of certain members of the team. His hands were in his pockets, the right moving in a repetitive manner. He was fiddling with something. Perhaps a phone. Perhaps a weapon. He was clearly afraid. While the raised hood concealed most of his face, It didn’t cover the tension in his jaw or the frown. The slight movements of his head as he glanced to find his nearest exits nearly outnumbered the times he looked to the captain. He did not place himself in a position to touch the other man, carefully maintaining the few inches of space between them, but there was no doubt that he would be keeping others at an even greater distance. Should he need to make a hasty getaway he could easily make it to the elevator or the window. If the captain was surprised, he may even make it to the stairwell. 

“I have really got to adopt a new policy about blond beefcakes being able to get people into my tower just by vouching for them. Security should get a new memo- Jarvis? Make a new memo. No guests on the elevators without prior approval.” It’s an empty complaint, and it certainly isn’t a “no’. 

Captain Rogers noticed that as well. “You said I could bring over anyone I’d fought beside and trusted, and that they could stay at the tower with no extra clearances.” Steve’s pout was in contrast to the clever glint to his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah. Mr Team Leader. And when did this kid fight with you? Against the chitauri? In DC? Saved a little old lady from muggers?”

“Actually, it was World War 2.” He finally closed the gap and touched his companion. “Tony, meet Bucky Barnes.”

To his credit, or perhaps to Steve’s, Barnes did not startle at the contact despite the tension he was broadcasting to anyone who looked closely. He stood straighter, though, and the hand in his pocket had ceased it’s constant movement. The silence could be cut with a knife. Well, the silence from the people present. The television droned on in the background with the dramatic dialogue as empty and meaningless as the sound of the air conditioning or cars on the streets below. Barnes? Why was that name so familiar? 

“Barnes. As in tried-to-kill-you Barnes? Winter Soldier Barnes?”

Ah. Released Hydra records had featured that name. Stark had been  _ insufferable _ when events had unfolded without him. Steve, Natasha, and Sam had tried to find the man, once things had calmed down, only to return empty-handed. 

“That would be the one.” 

For a man who routinely makes insanity seem sane, Stark seems to have a hard time grasping this admission. He shouldn’t. The captain favored ugly truths to pretty lies any day of the week. 

Tony’s resignation had to be similar to what he had shown Thor, not too long ago. The way that he looks to a man who refuses to make eye contact with him, shielded by a curtain of hair and a wet cotton hood, is all too familiar. 

This man was to be a project as well.

It wasn’t an insult towards Tony, and it did not lessen the fact that a home here was a better fit than he could have ever anticipated. But Stark saw people how he saw blueprints, at times. They became things to be improved, repaired, patched at least well enough to serve their purpose. It was not as though he viewed himself differently. The Tony Stark that had emerged from a cave in Afghanistan had been the new and improved model. The Tony Stark that had repaired himself again once given the proper materials was an improvement on that. The Tony Stark that came back after peering into the void was another repair. Being patched together was not the negative feature other designers would frown at. Stark repairs were an art.

Besides, it wasn’t as if Stark would be the only one trying to help. This strange family that they had created here was enough to make  _ anyone _ feel normal. The easy acceptance would be beneficial for the man,

“‘If I may say so, experience seems to have favored you running a rescue for the misled and injured superpowered. It saved you the burden of the uppermost floors of that bank building a week ago.”

His expression says  _ traitor _ , even though he does not. “I had that under control.”

Loki hums in reply. “And what of the incident with Magneto?”

Tony narrows his eyes, but concedes with a “Good point.” He glances from Loki to Bucky. “So I take it that means you’re siding with Cap on this one?”

“There is more than enough room in the tower, and he is no more a threat than I am.”

“Was.”

“Am.” Loki sits up and stretches his arms above his head with a yawn. “Or do you not remember Victor’s speech last month?”

“‘Alien forces beyond understanding, capable of unimaginable violence’?” His pacing of the words match Doom’s, even though their voices were nothing alike. Tony rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I caught that. I thought that was him flirting.”

“No, Victor flirting involves many more mentions of his political power and wealth, often at high volume and in the third person- offers of being a queen- or king, I suppose, he isn’t entirely clear… a ruler alongside him at any rate.”

“Yeah? Does that work?” His smirk said that he knew  _ exactly _ how successful those attempts were.

“I tend to prefer a more subtle approach. Things like being provided luxury accommodations, clothing, and food, personally engineered consumer electronics, having a very good legal team at my beck and call, being able to waste entire  _ days _ in bed-” His smile turns unrepentantly wicked. 

Steve clears his throat, the barest hint of pink gracing his neck.

“Come, Anthony. Let us leave the Captain and his companion to settle in. You can annoy them over dinner.”

*

The captain likes to keep his friend isolated. Or, possibly, his friend likes to keep  _ himself _ isolated. On the few occasions he had graced everyone with his presence, it was always in the shadow of the captain. For the first week, even the first two, this was entirely tolerable. However, there comes a point where curiosity overrides respect for boundaries. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the captain’s request to give the newcomer time, or the signals that the man himself put off that he was not to be approached. It was the realization that he had not even heard the new man’s voice.

Stark was afraid of him. Not enough to curb his behavior, of course. He still made comments and threw around nicknames on the instances Barnes showed his face, but a certain hesitation was there if you looked for it. 

*

He wasn’t balanced. He led with his right more than could be ascribed to simple hand or eye preference. Thor did not seem to notice. A glance at Natasha confirmed that she HAD. 

Her words are in another tongue. “Old injury or new?”

“You did not notice it before?”

She shakes her head, short fiery hair parting to opposing sides of her shoulders. 

It was a dance. Thor clearly liked the novelty of a new opponent. 

“...Recurring.” He offers. Damage to the joint could be problematic, especially for a mortal man.

She nods in agreement, stealing a handful of Clint’s popcorn. 

He puts Thor on his back, flat against the floor with a thud. He’s straddled over Thor with his arm pulled back to strike when he stops, scrambles off, and sits on the floor with his mouth slightly open. Heavy breaths in a quiet arena. 

Steve stands up and takes a step forward. 

“Stop.” A rough voice, unused in too long. An outstretched hand as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

Alarm bells. Danger. Fear. He and the widow move at the same time to gently pull the captain back into his seat. 

“Hey Thor, how’s the mat taste?” The flicked popcorn kernel ricochets off of Thor’s forehead. 

Say what you will about Barton, he occasionally knows what he’s doing. 

Thor’s laughter helps to break the tension. “I had not expected to greet the ceiling when my opponent was so reluctant to face me!” He smiles at Bucky from his place on the floor. “I have fought far larger who could not accomplish such a task.” Thor rolls to his feet with a broad grin on his face. “Another?”

*

The news report of their latest fight features footage of himself being impaled. The thorns on that plant had been brutally effective. His injury was currently wrapped and well on the way to being healed. By tomorrow his skin would only have a discolored mark where the puncture was, provided they were not called to duty in the meantime. A barbed vine catches the onscreen Thor in the face. The jagged lines torn into the skin of his brother’s cheek were already gone. 

Barnes looks between them and the screen as though it were some trick being played on him. He and the captain healed quickly, but they did not possess the abilities of an Asgardian. Still, if he thought this was impressive he was in for a surprise when he saw firsthand just what Banner was capable of.

Barnes sits too straight when Natasha whispers. “They are very hard to kill.”

He can’t help but notice that Barnes is less reluctant to share space with him and Thor, after that. 

*

He is braiding a section of Thor’s hair- Jane would not admit it, but she enjoyed seeing Thor’s hair in any kind of restraint. Nimble fingers make short work of it. Thor vacates the space between his brother’s knees. He was not as good at this as Frigga, but he could do a serviceable job. Barnes eyes the open space. 

“If I am to style yours as well, you should be aware that I cannot reach you from across the room.”

Barnes’ back touches the couch. His eyes are firmly affixed to the elevator. 

Loki runs his fingers through the long dark strands. Not as oily as his own could be. Had been in the past. 

“You would do well to take advantage of Stark’s showers.”

There were scars on the man’s scalp, small lines, pinpricks. All hidden by his hair. “Am i to 

conceal these marks, or do you wish to flaunt them?”

Barnes’ hand reaches up, following the same route Loki’s fingers had taken. “I…” His fingertips press against a mark much the way he had observed Clint pressing against a bruise which he had no memory of earning. “Hide them. I don't want Steve to see them.”

Barnes returned, though, the next time he had seen him braiding. Not Thor, that time. Natasha wanted it as part of a more elaborate updo and while she was to finish it herself, it was simply easier to have another set of hands ensuring the evenness before pinning it into place. 

Before he had even returned to his previous position on the sofa, Barnes was standing at the periphery. 

Barnes hangs his head for a moment, letting long fingers comb through dark strands. It was not as lived-in as the first attempt, but it was not freshly washed either.

  
  


*

“I don’t even know who I am, anymore. All i know is that i want to follow him.”

“Is that enough?”

“Yeah. But it shouldn’t have to be.” He gives a self-deprecating smile

“Let no one tell you so, if that trust is enough to allow you to be more than you would have been. Never cease seeking more, of course, but there are worse men to put your faith in when you have none than Captain Rogers. “

*

“You could help save the world.”

“That’s what they had me do.”

“Hmm?”

“I was changing the world. That’s what they said.”

*

“I have been in your shoes before, in a fashion. Some advice- No one here is innocent. If you should wish to discuss the past, none will judge. Should you keep anything to yourself, it will not be held against you. Jarvis is a wonderful resource, it is in your best interest to remember he exists.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“I have had others serve me who had many more years to their name and none of the skill. Thor  _ will _ attempt to coddle you. Feel free to make him stop. Employ sharp objects if necessary. I assure you he will not take such actions personally.”

*

“It bothers you. Where the metal meets flesh.”

Barnes does not confirm or deny. 

“Stark or Banner would attempt to aid you, should you allow them.”

“Banner?” He frowns.

“Yes. He has knowledge of medicine, and considering his experience with those who are not exactly the average specimens is likely one of the more qualified to deal with your particular situation, Stark has knowledge of mechanics and personal experience merging it with a living body. There are worse options you could use to assist you than the two of them.”

*

Thor had his arm around Barnes’ shoulder, and while he looked like a rabbit in the headlights, he hadn’t actively tried to get away.

*

Seeing him smile hurt. It had been in response to a comment by Rhodes about Stark. 

It simply… changed the whole look of his face. He looked messy rather than unkempt. it clarified just how much of an act that the one he often chose to wear truly was. however. it seemed there was a spark to him that Hydra had not managed to extinguish.

He goes to Tony, later that night. “Verbally spar with friends while Barnes is present. He finds it entertaining.”

“Knew i was growing on him.”

*

Barnes invaded his space. The distance between them was narrower than it should have been. It was tolerable, the lack of personal space between any members of this group had become the norm, he had just grown accustomed to Barnes’ concept of personal space being far larger than, say, Thor’s.

“I want to go out.”

“Then go. Nothing holds you here.”

“Steve is with Sam and Thor’s with Jane.”

“Fine. What is the goal of this outing?”

“See the streets. Feel the sun. I don’t…”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t feel  _ real _ .”

“This feels like an illusion?”

“No.” He frowns. “It’s real. You’re real. I’m… not?”

“I take it the others usually accompany you?”

His jerky nod is too rough. “Someone needs to be there, in case I start to be someone else instead.”

“And you have elected me for such a task.”

“I know that you could do it. Stop me from being someone else.” 

“Very well. How do you wish for me to appear? Attractive? Unattractive? Male? Female? Someone outside of those options?” He makes a show of picking at his hands. “Am I to take attention away from you? blend so well that no one glances twice in our direction? Am I to appear as a person at all, or would my purpose on this venture be as well-served were I to take the shape of, say, a pigeon instead?”

“I changed my mind. Maybe the world isn’t real either.” There was a deadpan quality to his words, a hope of humor. 

*

“Don’t do that thing.” Clint points accusingly.

“What thing?” Loki pouts.

“That thing you do where you just… show up.”

Moving the short distance through the world and whispering “This?” into Clint’s ear, close enough that the other man felt the breath on the back of his neck, was an irresistible urge. 

Clint elbows him just below his ribs. 

Still worth it. 

“That. The villain voice doesn’t help either.”

“Villain voice.” 

“You only use it when you’re trying to act evil or when you’re trying to get into Tony’s pants, and it puts up little red flags for everyone who isn’t tapping that.”

He makes a point of looking Barton up and down. 

“Stop that. I know you don’t mean it.”

*

“He and Steve… they didn’t work with people like us.” Natasha shakes her head.

“People like us.”

“Liars. The Winter Soldier was a weapon. But the man who existed before that, the one they broke down and tried to erase, he was a soldier. If that’s who he’s trying to be, I can’t promise that he’ll want anything to do with you.”

She forgot how many centuries he had spent trying to earn the favor of people who disapproved of his many perceived faults. 

*

  
  


“I can’t.”

“Hmm?”

Barnes doesn’t respond to the inquiring hum and he refocuses on the film. 

It isn’t until they are left alone together again that Barnes offers him another sentence. “I can’t remember anything.”

Again, he makes it clear that he would hear more, and again, Barnes lets the matter drop.

A week later. “I can’t remember  _ me _ .”

Loki simply nods. Better to be confessed to than ignored. He had held tales of many in the courts. There, it had offered a chance of leverage. Here it possessed a different sort of value.

A few days later. “I don’t know what I am supposed to do.”

“I can’t let him down.”

“I do not believe it possible.” If Barnes refused to hear his words, or once again fell silent, it was his choice to do so, but this would be addressed. “The captain and my brother-” and some small part of him still pulled uncomfortably at calling Thor brother intentionally, though he knew the blond embraced it and that in the grand scheme of things it was a small lie that harmed none. “-in some ways, they are alike. There is little you could do to make him turn against you.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“He knows what I have done, and still allows me to remain. I doubted him, once. He is a hard man to doubt.”

*

Barnes eyes him like a puzzle. “Why are you even here?”

“Why does someone like me fight alongside the heroes? I could claim some higher morals, but I do not believe that such a falsehood would ring true to you for even a moment.” He sighed. “I have no attachments to this realm other than to the people in it.”

“You and Stark.”

“He is not everything, though I am sure he believes himself to be. The people here, in this tower, have treated me as though I belonged here. However, I recognize something that my brother does not, and that I feel Odin knew all too well before he left his heir to defend this place, and that is this- none of this little arrangement is permanent. A few years, and all of those we have grown to care for will pass. Your lives are brief. Very brief. At  _ best _ , you are a century compared to millenia. if Thor has spared any thought to it, he has done so only in the vaguest way. He is not prepared for death. Though I try to keep my focus elsewhere, there are many moments where I am all too aware of it.”

“You love them anyway.”

“I do, though I know it will be  _ torture _ when they begin to fall. I would rather die in battle beside them than be forced to persist and bear witness to the loss of each of them.“

*

“Your clothing. It was not selected by choice.”

“It’s fine.”

“Familiar?”

Barnes looks at him strangely. 

“I did not mind Thor’s belongings, at first. They were… a reminder.”

*

It was interesting to see Barton use this method on another person, to trick them into lowering their defenses while still being in control of his own faculties. 

He likes to think that he had not reacted the same way as Barnes. 

He had downed shot after shot, there wasn’t even the illusion of Barton attempting to keep up. 

*

A child on the battlefield. He seemed to be the first one who usually noticed when toddling footfalls put a young life in danger. 

A ruined car, a woman begging her son to listen. The dinging of a door left open while the motor was still running. 

Barnes strides like a vengeful god of war, picks the kid up by his overalls, and pulls the door off of the vehicle with a metal hand. 

  
  


*

His palm on the back of Barnes’ neck seemed more intimate than it did with Thor. Partially, this was because Barnes never returned the gesture. He observed Thor both initiating and receiving this sort of touch, so it wasn’t that he thought this could only go one way.

It seemed a greater show of trust than sharing Stark’s bed, to come in contact with him. He always indulged it, and always perked up from the attention.

He noticed the reaction and indulged it. Natasha noticed perhaps before he did. Her actions were less obvious to an outside observer, but they were there in lingering brushed fingertips and her thigh on the couch pressed against his. 

Steve was always easy with casual touches, as was Thor. 

Tony noticed, at some point. Claps to the shoulder sometimes made Barnes jolt, but the attention-demanding nudges, pokes, and kicks made him smile.

He was like Banner, that way. He loathed fear. He hadn’t mentioned an ability to scent it like the hulk, but it rubbed him wrong all the same. And if there was one thing to say about Stark, it was that the man was very good at hiding his fear. 

Barnes liked it. He liked all small bits of contact. From any member of the team. From Jane. From Pepper. He soaked it all up like a sponge.

“They didn’t-” he answers the unspoken question one day as he sat down to have something done with his hair, melting slightly into the sensation of fingertips at his hairline. “- didn't touch me.” 

That seems like a crime, even compared to the few other secrets he had let slip or had been shared on his behalf. 

Not everyone knows the value of a kind touch to an aching being. at least they could offer him this, with no concern for old memories

*

It had been a quiet request, on a calm night. “You can change how you look.”

“I can.”

“Ever turn into people you know?”

There was such potential for mischief. “Yes.”

“I… I need to know that I won’t target him in a fight. That if I follow you guys that I won’t make everything worse. Wanna go a few rounds?”

There truly wasn’t much else clamoring for his attention. 

“Yes.”

Barnes criticised the way he moved. The way he shifted his weight. His expressions.  _ Constantly _ . If he ever had to pretend to be Captain America in an official capacity, he strongly doubted that they would complain that he  _ smiled _ wrong. 

*

Barnes finally allows Anthony to look at the arm and does not seem to mind the presence of the captain or himself. 

The plate slides off

Tony whistles. “This is a little rough. Not  _ bad _ , but definitely rough.”

“Yeah, well I had to make do.”

Tony gets a familiar glint to his eye. “You did these repairs?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lip. “Couldn’t call Geek Squad.”

Tony’s bark of laughter startles him. “Sorry.” He shows his palms. “I thought your sense of humor got hypothermia and died.“ He gestures back with a tip of his head. “Cap’s was certainly damaged by his splash tank experience.”


End file.
